#travis hackett imagine

[ficmesideways]

Request for anonymous Gif Source: Travis Hackett

Imagine kissing Sheriff Hackett

---------Imagine ---------

You knew a kiss from him would be good, great even; but you never imagined the earth-shattering pleasure he could elicit with just his mouth on yours. He had a mouth that could swallow you whole and devour all your moans, but he was so controlled with it. He coaxed your mouth open with his lips dragging them across you own and then giving your bottom lip a gentle nip when they finally opened for him. By the time he finally pressed his tongue into your mouth you were weak at the knees and gripping his uniform tightly in your fists. You pressed your body and mouth closer to his feeling your teeth clicking against his. You didn’t care, you just wanted more and the way he moved against you it was something he was more than willing to give.

[anna1306]

Protection

@hrefna-the-raven @rosedreamer44

Long time ago you both asked me for some fic with Travis, and after a long time here it is. Hope you will like it and if anything, request more, I can and will write it c:

Travis Hackett x Reader

You never considered yourself a brave person. You never fought with anyone, let alone gather courage and get yourself into dangerous situation. But everything changed in an instant, it seemed.

When you found yourself befriending Travis, you couldn't imagine what could happen next. You knew he was a brooding, standalone policeman, probably the only one in the whole area (which was strange, but you didn't question it at the time). You were a delivery person, who always made sure he wasn't entirely alone in his station. And with time you broke his facade enough for him to smile and laugh at your jokes.

Another thing was to break his walls enough to get to his heart. It wasn't your ultimate goal, but with time you noticed how different it felt, when he was looking at you. How his every smile charmed you more. How your heart flattered, when he was telling you about something, whispering in the quietness of his office.

But you two were scaredy-cats. And after spontaneous, but passionate kiss on his working table in the police station, you both hid from each other.

It took some time for both of you. For you - to gather courage and show up on his porch to talk and admit your feelings. For him - to get over some of his problems he had and agree to try something with you.

"I... My life is complicated as it is." He admitted, sitting at his desk, with hot coffee in his hands. You fiddled with the spoon in your tea, too nervous to actually drink it. "And I want you to understand that it isn't... Easy for me to let you in on everything that is going on."

"You sound like a character from a movie." You tried to lighten the mood, but Travis was too serious at the moment. He looked at you as if he was almost in pain.

"Y/N, I am serious. It could be dangerous for you. Just trust me. It is up to you, but... I'd rather have you as far away from it as possible."

"Do you understand what you are doing?" You scoffed, making him look at you. "Travis, I confessed to you that I love you. That I care for you..."

"I feel the same, that's why we are having this talk." Travis interrupted you, emotional as always.

"You are telling me that your life is dangerous for me and you want to keep me away from you. But it's not dangerous to you?" You pressed the matter. Hackett leaned back on his chair and shook his head.

"It is extremely dangerous for anyone, but..."

"Then you don't have the right to tell me that I need to stay away." You stated straight in his face. He looked at you in surprise, not expecting this from you, so soft and kind usually and not assertive in any way. "You, the person I love, is in danger. I can't stay away or just not care about it."

"Y/N, I can't..."

"It is my decision, Travis. It is my life. And if I am to stay away from you, I would be sick worried to my stomach about your life. This would be dangerous as well." You reached to his hand, covering his fingers with yours. He didn't look at his face, even if you stared in his eyes.. "You don't have to tell me the truth. Just... Promise that you won't leave me alone after telling me all about this danger."

He watched you silently for a moment, taking in your face, slowly tracing it with his gaze. Heavy sigh fell from his lips, as he stood up and went around the desk to be close to you. When he sat before your chair on the floor, crouching, you looked at him questioningly, expecting him to say anything.

"You are the most bravest, shyest and pretty idiot with no sense of self-preservation, you know?" Finally said Hackett. And while it wasn't the most romantic line, you still giggled, cupping his face with a hand. He wasn't good with romantic stuff obviously, but this lack of beautiful words felt just right. It was a sign of affection from him.

"If you have me this way, I am okay with that." You smiled, watching him close his eyes and snuggle to your fingers.

"I promise you that I won't let any harm come your way." He whispered. You shook your head. You knew he was strong enough, but you didn't want to think about bad things. You didn't want to think that he could risk his life for you, even if you were sure that he would protect you.

"I know. If so... Can we repeat that evening?.. With kiss..." You shyly asked, feeling how your cheeks burnt red. Travis smirked, reaching for your lips readily. Who he was to deny you?

It was sweet after this. He made soft gestures to you, giving you flowers or making you go on some picnic. He was soft towards you, accurate in his actions and words, but at the same time passionate in kisses and physical affection. Travis was the best in your book, whether it was about dating or listening. His advices were the best.

You didn't raise the theme of danger level in your relations for a long time. You knew there was something, as Travis didn't answer the phone on some nights and even told you to stay away from the station and the forest. But he always came back to you.

And then... The Night happened. It was one of those days, when he told you to stay away from him and from the station. You didn't question anything. Not then, not when your phone ringed in the middle of the night. You just jumped into your car and went for the police station. You thought Travis needed help (ignoring the fact of silence in the phone). But you definitely didn't expect big monster jumping in front of your car. Before you could scream or before this creature could do anything, there were two shots, scaring the monster away. Travis ushered you inside the building, trembling, as he looked at you with mix of anguish, anger and fear in his eyes.

After one long explanation, dozens of angry curses and three cups of coffee you found out the truth. Of why it was so dangerous for you to stay near Travis. Of who exactly was this creature. And why you should have never went out in night on the full moon.

It took some more time. For Travis to talk it over with his family and make a decision of what to do next. For you to process the thought that your boyfriend was connected to... Werewolves. To disappearances of tourists. To some horror stories of the past.

But eventually you moved in to Hackett's house. You wanted to help him, he wanted you to be safe and under his protection. It was for the best for both of you.

While friendly from the start, Hacketts became more strict with time. You helped with housework - cooking, cleaning. Your own job let you sometimes get out and go for a ride, but still you felt isolated from the world for the most part. You understood the reasoning behind it, but couldn't help it...

If it wasn't for Travis, who was attentive, kept his more or less romantic tone with you, helped you sometimes, you would get bored pretty quickly. You could now fall asleep with him, you could snuggle up to him, kiss him whenever you could. You got to see more relaxed, home Travis. But...

At the same time you got to see how he always gave all of his time and consideration to family. Every free minute, every free second, free cent went into helping the family. You became all too wary of his mother, when you understood how strict she really was.

Nothing could be good in her book, unless it was perfect. Got some meat for the meal? You should have gotten more. Shun tourists away? They shouldn't be here in the first place. Were gone for three days and nights in search of the White Wolf? Well, why didn't he trapped yet?

There was always nagging, always comments, grumbling and reproaches. You kept your mouth shut for a while. After all you were just a newcomer in this house, not part of the family, even if Travis' niece, Kaylee, and Bobby were very warm to you.

But your heart still clenched every time Travis managed to got on her bad side. He looked guilty every time. Like he really did something bad. Even if there wasn't anything. He was always the guilty one in his family.

This evening you were reading the book, resting after long day of job deliveries. The full moon was in two weeks, there were still people in the camp, and you had nothing to worry about, everything was good and safe.

You were too deep in your thoughts about quiet evening with Travis, since he promised he would come back earlier that day. You were already imagining his soft scent, warm hands and kisses, full of love. You almost didn't notice the screams. Almost.

When you heard his mother's voice, you furrowed your brows. Maybe there was going on something important, and you were missing out on the information. You stood up from the armchair in your and Travis' bedroom, hastily going out and heading towards the living room, where the commotion was.

"You lost him again!" Constance was fuming, according to the voice. You carefully entered the room and sighed. Travis was standing before his mother, looking anywhere, but at her. His face was unreadable, you knew that expression all too well. Usually emotional, he never let anything express on his face in front of his mother. He always closed off and went inside himself mentally.

"The boy is fast. Even in normal days, you know that." Chris started, trying to defend his brother, but was cut shortly by mother's stare.

"Your brother always fails." She sharply turned to Travis. "Everything you do is failure." She spitted almost hatefully. Travis didn't move from his spot. You sighed, slowly coming into family's view and walking to his side. Man shivered, when you took his hand, raising his pained eyes on your face.

"Are you okay?" You quietly asked him. He nodded and glanced at his mother.

"There was no way for me to catch him today. I wasn't in a car, I was on foot. And only had couple of silver bullets."

"You could, if you tried! But you preferred to stay safe and not protect your family!" You looked at Constance angrily. "You always choose yourself. Became a policeman, because you wanted to. Brought this... Person into our house. Spilled our secret! Now you can't even protect our family! You should have went straight to this beast instead of thinking about hiding."

"Would you prefer Bobby to find his dead body in the morning?" You suddenly asked before you could stop yourself. Constance shot you an angry look. Travis gripped your fingers, trying to stop you. But you were done at this point.

"Care to repeat?" She dared you. You pursed your lips not caring for her sharp look.

"Would you rather have Travis dead?" You repeated your question louder. "You are going on and on about what he should have done. About how he is the failure. How he is nothing and should do better for his family. But he is doing everything."

"You stay out of this. This is family business, and you are noone here." She warned you.

"I know that I'm noone. And you are still kinder to me than to your own son!" You exclaimed. "Travis knows the situation, he was there, and if he chose to hide and stay safe, then he didn't do it selfishly, he did it because he knew that it was the best choice."

"He is coward!"

"He isn't coward in the slightest! Travis wants nothing more than to save this family!" You screamed back at her. "He would die to protect you all! But there would be no point in risking his life if in the end he wouldn't get the wolf!"

"He could have!"

"How do you know?! You weren't there!"

"As weren't you. Yet here you are, raising your voice at me, ungrateful slut!" The woman almost got red in face, screaming at you.

"You can degrade me and call me names, whatever you want, I don't care." You laughed loudly. "But don't you dare scream at your own son and make him the scape goat. He is doing everything for you, yet you are blaming him for every little misstep."

"He deserves it."

"He deserves a good family and loving parents, that trying to fix the situation with him together, not guilttriping him after he tries to defend himself. He deserves a good night sleep, and not jumping in the middle of the night and going out in the forest. He deserves a good, calm job, and not the one, where he should hide the bodies of tourists and lie to others about the situation around here!" You blurted out all of this in one breath, looking furiously at his shocked mother. Travis took you by shoulders and turned to him so you would look at him.

"Y/N, calm down. Don't..."

"No, I'm tired!" You shook your head, getting out of his hands. You looked at him almost offended, you tried to prove a point about his well-being, yet here he was, trying to calm you down, as his mother wanted. "I'm tired to see you stressed out! I'm tired that the man I love the most in this world is being degraded by his own freaking family! That you are never here! I try to help you as much as I can, but I can't anymore hear everyone blaming you again and again, when you are the one who protects them from everything! And you know what sucks the most? That I can't help you! Even my today words won't reach your mother, nothing would change, she would only hate me more and would tell you how I am the bad person!"

You didn't notice you started crying. Travis froze in his place for a second and then stepped to you, hugging you tightly and pressing your face into his chest. He knew how much you hated showing your feelings to others, plus he didn't want your emotions to go overboard completely. You pressed yourself into him, whimpering, crying not because you were tired or pained, but because of him. You were crying for him, like it was you who was constantly degraded and put down. It sure as hell felt like it.

You didn't know how long you stood there. Consumed by your emotions and thoughts, you lost the sense of time or other world or people around you. When you felt your fingers getting numb by your grip on his shirt, you slowly pulled away. Travis looked at you wary.

"Sugar? You alright?" You nodded, feeling a bit lightheaded. You noticed there was noone around you.

"I need to apologize to her, right?" You asked quietly and hiccuped from all the tears. Travis sighed, pursing his lips.

"I don't know. I have never seen her so conflicted. Ever." He admitted, cupping your face and wiping your tears with his fingers. Travis looked at you attentively, making you sigh.

"I'm sorry. I know you love her to death, but she just... Her constant anger at you... And your look, I just..."

"Thank you." Travis suddenly said quietly. "Noone stood up for me, really. And I didn't need anyone to. She didn't listen to anyone. I'm surprised she didn't throw something at you." He scoffed, making you smile weakly.

"You know that I love you, right? I want the best for you. And it is so unfair, that you try and try, but in the end..." You stopped yourself before you could go on another rant, shaking your head. Travis kissed you on the forehead, closing his eyes.

"I know. You are the best thing that happens to me in this cursed place." He whispered to you, as if it was a secret. "I promise. Once all of it ends, I am going to marry you and get out of here as soon as possible."

"Now I want to go out to this forest and kill the bastard myself." You joked, making him laugh and hug you again.

You knew it would be hard. Knew that you should go and apologize later. Knew that you would have a long talk with his mother. Maybe she even understood something. But you weren't worried about it at the moment. All you cared about - Travis' warm and soft arms. All you wanted to do - let him know that he was loved and cherished.

Thankfully to you, he knew that now.

[the-faceless-bride]

Travis Hackett [The Quarry]

Jake Washington [wrong Turn]

Sans [undertale]

Connor [Detroit become human]

Jack Sparrow [Pirates of the Caribbean]

Joker [DC]

Peter Parker [Marvel]

Tony Stark [Marvel]

Rick [Rick and Morty]

Emily [Corpse Bride]

Noir [spider man]

Miguel [spider man]

Hobie [Spinder Punk]

Neteyam [Avatar]

Itward [franbow]

francis mosses [that's not my neighbor]

[zerzurianspy]

now i am thinking of an au where everything is the same except travis being an oriental cat and catching laura and max and then imprisoning them and making laura tell him everything that is needed all this while being a cat and also talking in his human voice(and while having an argument with his mother tiny cat tears fall down his cat face)

[finalslay]

@herosace​ said :  ‘ don’t leave me. i can’t be alone. ’ / for travis 

brow  furrows,  and  even  despite  the  fact  that  father  and  son’s  relationship  has  changed  since  all  of  this  occurred  —  if  he’d  have  just  listened  to  him  that  night,  if  christian  had  just  stayed  home  like  he  was  told  —  he  knows  he  cannot  refuse  him  this.  his  son  sits  there  on  the  edge  of  his  bed,  looking  for  all  the  world  like  the  same  scared  little  boy  who  used  to  wake  up  crying  from  nightmares  and  calling  for  his  father  in  the  middle  of  the  night.  so,  instead  of  turning  and  leaving  the  room  as  he  had  planned,  travis  takes  a  seat  down  on  christian’s  desk  chair,  eyes  watching  him  closely,  taking  note  of  the  pale  skin,  the  tired  eyes.      “  how’re  you  feeling?  ”    he  asks.  the  sheriff’s  expression  remains  unreadable,  a  mask  to  hide  the  concern  flickering  beneath  the  surface.  he’s  still  angry  at  christian,  still  angry  that  he  didn’t  listen  in  the  first  place,  but  ...  there’s  nothing  that  can  be  done  about  it  now.  gaze  shifts  to  the  marks  on  his  son’s  wrists,  left  behind  by  the  chains  that  had  held  him  in  place  the  night  before,  and  he  winces  almost  imperceptibly.    “  i  can  get  you  something  for  those,  ”    travis  says,  gesturing  towards  the  marks  with  a  wave  of  his  hand.    “  ice  or  ...  painkillers  or  something.  ”    a  small  peace  offering,  so  to  speak.

[ghostradiodylan]

Oh look, the Quarry archive has delivered

💥emotional damage💥

Ryan might be the only one left who knew Chris as well as Travis did... and I feel like if they had a chat, it could both help them grieve.

[hrefna-the-raven]

The Quarry - masterlist

all Travis Hackett x female reader

The Naiad (nymph reader)

Chapter 1 - The naiad of the lake

Chapter 2 - Kintsugi

Taste of regret (human female reader)

Chapter 1 - Wednesdays

Chapter 2 - Thursdays

Chapter 3 - Lunch

Chapter 4 - Friday

Chapter 5 - Unspoken

Chapter 6 - Tuesday, 27 October 2015 (18+)

Chapter 7 (final) - Taste of regret

The Aftermath

Chapter 1 - Start believing

Chapter 2 - Behind bars

Chapter 3 - Belly of the beast

Chapter 4 - White wolf

Imagines

Being a counselor at the summer camp

The well

Police academy

Dating Travis

SPN comes to the rescue

Don't you wanna kiss me and seal the deal, Sheriff?

Camping drabble

[cellard0ors]

Fic: Five of Swords (Part of A Full Deck Series)

Fandom: The Quarry

Pairing: Travis Hackett/Laura Kearney

Rating: Teen

Warnings:  Character Death, Wakes & Funerals, Grief/Mourning, Drinking, Explicit Language, Smoking, Minor Violence, Threats, Promises, Anger, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse

Notes: Dedicated to @spookyscaryscully for the idea/help. Also please imagine the pic above with a BLACK suit. I tried to change it but I don't have Photoshop, so...yeeeeeah. 💀

Preview:

It was a gorgeous day in 1999.

The sun was out, the skies were clear other than the occasional stray wisps of cloud, and the temperature was neither too hot, nor too cold. It was a gorgeous day and it was the day of Amelia Hackett’s funeral. There’s no written rule that the day of burials should be dark and gloomy, but the disposition of the day felt grossly inappropriate.

Father Hopkins, who had been their priest since Travis was fifteen, gave a moving, albeit very slow speech during the church service. It was followed by some words from Amelia's friends and family and concluded with her husband, Chris Hackett, who was barely holding it together while he spoke about his never-ending love for his wife.

AO3 Link

[wolfawaycamp]

LauraMax roleswap as in, she’s the one who gets bitten and he’s the one playing support.

this part’s prob too broad for a drabble but I’m fascinated by imagining how that would even play out bc I just can’t picture him going on a werewolf hunt?! the hurt/comfort of being bitten/the eye gouge scenes would slap tho

🌦️ max “so on board with murder” brinly is faced with having to do it himself…. I offer you some angst

Through the pang of pain in his eye— that had, at one point, gotten so bad that Travis had to give him antibiotics— Max focused on the werewolf.

This was it. He just had to kill a werewolf and then Laura was going to be okay. He didn't know how to shoot as well as Laura did, he wasn't as fearless, he couldn't ever be as relentlessly devoted to anything as she was to everything. Nevertheless, he had to do this for her, now, and he had to get this shot right. If he failed tonight he was coming back next month— as many times as it took.

He crept closer, holding his breath, and aimed to the best of his ability.

The recoil of the gun in his hands and the noise almost took him off his feet. He made the shot. Holy shit, he made the shot.

He wasn't going to stick around because as much as his annoyance at the Hackett family had festered, he didn't want to see if the body was going to turn back into Chris Hackett. It was a werewolf. It was not a man.

Besides, he had to see Laura.

***

He used one of those boats to get back to the island with anticipation in his heart, giddily excited to finally see Laura, now that she was fine. Things could go back to normal now. They'd talked about it all in the cells. Max was gonna get a job and they'd share an apartment while Laura went to veterinary school. It was a better plan than what they were going to do before, because Max didn't actually want to go to grad school, not really— he had just wanted to follow Laura. Plus, him having income would be better than the two of them living on student loans. Max was going to make so many jokes about how Laura's first-hand experience with wolves made her the perfect vet candidate, now that she wasn't living it.

“Laura?” he called out, and got no answer. That made sense, right? She was probably exhausted and passed out when she turned back.

He made his way up the treehouse and called out again, just in case she was actually awake and just hadn't heard him, “Laura?”

Then, it— she— was there, and this was all so wrong. There was a werewolf in front of him and there shouldn't be any werewolves and he knew it was Laura. Why? He had killed Chris— he had killed Chris, right? Was it all wrong? Had he killed someone under a lie, wrongly thinking that it would cure Laura?

He was stuck in place and he knew it was a movie cliché but all he wanted to do was call out to Laura, reach her under the monster that had taken over. She was still there, right? She had to be. He said, desperate, eyes wet, “Laura, it's— it's me, it's Max, you know me, I love y—”

He cut himself off when she moved, and burst into a sprint. His chest heaved and tears pricked in his eyes. God, he had wanted that to work so badly.

Then, she had him in her grip and he was being bitten. It burned like hell, worse than his eye being taken out, worse than the peak of the eye infection, worse than anything he had ever felt.

[queenofbaws]

whoops

did it again

uh oh. sos. did too much today, used up all my spoons, got sad and started thinking about them.*

*tragic supermassive siblings that never had a chance

[ghostradiodylan]

I'm on a four hour car drive, singing at the top of my lungs (terribly, I'm so congested right now, not gonna stop me though lol), and having quarry brainrot. Who among the counselors do you think can sing well and who do you think can play an instrument?

I looove this question and I have to admit I haven’t thought about it that much so this is gonna be kind of off the cuff, instinctive stuff and I’m sure I’ll refine my opinions if others chime in (please!).

It’s kind of weird we never get any campfire singalong action in the game when there’s a guitar in Chris’s bedroom and he mentions Kumbaya, but maybe they’re tired of that from camp by the time the plot line picks up.

Miles obviously is a musician and Dylan’s the music guy so I’d imagine he’s musically inclined in some way. I’ve seen headcanons that he plays guitar and I could see that but I lean more toward thinking he would have taken piano lessons when he was younger and moved on to keyboard and adding on techie stuff like the Mellotron and Moog synth. I think he loves dials and buttons and weird sounds and he can sing but he’d rather fuck around in the noise. Any instrument he plays is gonna get a bit sad if he loses his hand but maybe he’d get more into sampling and remixing and looping computer generated beats as a result.

I think it would be funny if Jacob had a surprisingly angelic singing voice that was completely uncoached and no one ever expected out of him, sort of like Finn from Glee (RIP) but less auto-tuned. I think he’d be an acoustic guitar guy for sure just for the romance of it. Anyway, here’s “Wonderwall.”

Actual footage of Jacob serenading Emma, feat Abi.

Kaitlyn does not strike me as particularly musical though I headcanon that she and Jacob slay karaoke together. She just kind of shouts into the mic like a 90s riot grrl and sings Alanis or Joan Jett and kills.

Abi is so high school marching band nerd coded to me and I feel like she’s a total flute/piccolo girlie or else clarinet/oboe. Or maybe she plays violin in the school orchestra. Something sweet. She’s good but too nervous to perform or audition in front of people very much so it’s just a hobby she shares with people she trusts.

Emma I think would have a perfectly nice mid range singing voice that she’d wish was better. She probably started her influencer career recording Taylor Swift covers for YouTube but she’s a much better actress and dancer than she is a singer. Not quite triple threat material but she believes in herself so she’s trying.

Ryan has such a unique voice that I can’t decide if he definitely can sing or if he’s practically tone deaf. I kind of lean toward the latter. I imagine he hates his singing voice and rarely sings even for fun but if Dylan catches him singing or humming he’s like smitten times one million about it. I could see Ryan playing drums though, I’d imagine he has a good sense of rhythm.

Max, on the other hand, cannot carry a tune but sings ALL THE TIME anyway. And Laura cringes but finds it endearing all the same. He probably plays the ukulele. He just seems like the type.

Laura was a choir kid for sure and probably got solos in school plays and Max was accompanying her on ukulele and playing unnamed roles or else he was painting backdrops or something. We know Siobahn can sing and I feel like that would carry through with Laura for sure. I imagine them doing elaborate musical routines together on car rides even with their vastly different musical abilities.

Nick reminds me of a bassist I know who is maybe the weirdest human being alive. So that’s where I see him. He can sing a little but it’s definitely a backing vocals voice. I feel like he’d be in a stoner jam band just fucking around, playing the same song for an hour while both the band and audience are too high to know the difference.

Chris Hackett obviously plays guitar and Travis accompanies him on harmonica. Bobby plays blowing air over the lip of a jug and also cowbell.

I LOVE THIS ASK EVERYONE TELL ME THOUGHTS!

[scary-pixie]

Sometimes I like going for night time walkies through the older (and sketchier) parts of my town, just a short way from where I live.

But lately...I've been walking past the small houses with no lights on, maybe a creepy tree out in front or a stray cat wandering nearby, and imagining that Travis Hackett might live in one of these.

I wonder which one he'd pick!

[hope-to-hell]

No light but ours. Travis Hackett x Reader. Smut, angst, way too many ocean metaphors. Sunday supper at the Hackett house. A sudden rainstorm means spending the night in Travis’ childhood bed. You know where this will end up, don’t you?

This was supposed to be a nice lighthearted romp. What the hell happened?

—-

There’s dust drifting in all the unused rooms and dry rot is about to take the north wing, but these rooms are clean and still, little enclaves in a haunted house. This is a fucking haunted house, Travis.

(It’s bones on the seafloor, whalefall half picked-clean)

Shh. His hand is broad and tastes of salt, of copper, of something sharp. You want someone to hear you? His face says don’t you fuckin do it when he takes his hand away and you’ll be good, won’tcha?

He’s gotta watch the way he moves or it’s gonna be so fucking obvious what’s happening here: more obvious than when Sunday supper came along and brought you with it, more obvious than the way he stood on the porch with just that little sliver of himself out in the open and made his introductions: Ma, this is—

You’re late. Supper’s getting cold.

Rain’s bad and getting worse; no way you’re going back out like this and so it’s upstairs to a narrow bed, to faded wallpaper and a draft that’s got you all a-shiver, pulling his shirttails loose to bleed some of the tension out of him and when he runs a thumb over your lips there’s nothing you can do but have just a little taste.

All of this is the leadup, the preface to the moment when he stills at the sound of the bed creaking like trees shattering in winter: gunshot-loud, sharp, disorienting in its suddenness.

Fuck.

There’s nothing quite so eloquent as a man who’s balls-deep and struggling for words, a man who’s half out of his jeans and breathing openmouthed like he’s listening for footsteps on the landing.

(The worms are coming for you, as they come for us all. When all that’s left of you is bones, they’ll leave you lonely.)

Cmon, move— and he’s so goddamned heavy, weighed down by the ghosts within these walls; shadows crawl across his face in tired smears and if this is the cost of these suppers then perhaps he shouldn’t be here, but he is the dutiful son despite it all.

Will you be quiet?

Yeah. Yeah, just. Yeah. The words catch at his skin and trail in strings between you; they pull tight and tug him down for the barest ghost of a kiss. Cmon. I’ve got you. A promise is a promise and he takes it for what it is beneath the breathless wanting: you don’t have to be alone to be lonely. You know I’m here. It’s still a surprise, still makes his brows crawl up his face while he parses it out and finds himself almost believing it.

(Poor bastard, looking through these vast bones, imagining starlight high above)

When he moves again it’s more crawl than thrust: it’s Travis digging deep with all the slowness he can muster and all the patience that, at first, you didn’t think he had.

(Stolen moments at the station: mimeographs and faxes wrinkling under your ass— Jesus, Travis, did you get this stuff back in dinosaur times? Hey, what about a t-rex sending a fax? Please send meat. Stop. Am hungry. Stop.

That’s telegrams, now zip it— but he can’t quite keep a straight face, not even when he threads a hand beneath your shirt.

Sunrise comes and you’re bringing coffee, breathing clouds into the air while you wait for him on the rooftop. He always ends up here when another full moon has come and gone; seems like he’s forgotten what sleep is, and he’s gonna be a grouch all day but he still says thanks in a voice rimed with sand.)

His ass prickles gooseflesh and damn, you’re bending nails trying to catch at his belt; he’s cold and a little bony and this pace isn’t enough to get you off but it is enough for you to whimper and whine

(Needy little thing, aren’t you? He’s playing mean but it’s not til he gets his hand ‘round the back of your neck that something clicks; he says now you’re gonna give me what I want and maybe you say you don’t get on your knees for anyone but this is Travis and he tastes of sweat and salt and musk; he’s gonna smell himself on you later and raise his brows like what are you gonna do about it)

and he gets a hand between you; his thumb is roughly callused, sending sparks all up your spine when he gets it on you just the way you like. He moves like instinct but it’s muscle memory; each time is the culmination of all the times before: of all the gentle corrections, the wordless grasping of his hand as you move it to where you need it most.

(No light but the glow of a predator’s lure)

Travis bears a tension that never bleeds away; it anchors itself to the lines on his forehead and to the long ache down his spine. What he needs is letting go: mindless, thoughtless animal rutting, sweat and bruises, then dropping down into a long dreamless sleep. He needs a vacation from himself, from the constant turning-inward that tears at him every time he reaches out and finds his hand empty.

When he comes it’s like cracks in the sea floor, a long deep groan that’s bitten back hard enough to leave his mouth bloody. He breathes through the comedown, his face pressed into your shoulder; he is all a-quiver and you can’t quite tell—

You alright?

His yeah is a little fuzzy, but it’s hard to think too much about it when he gets his hand back on you; his lips brush across your skin in a pattern of words that he can’t say aloud, at least not yet. But he’s nosing at your cheek til he can swallow down your panting moaning ah, that’s it, don’t stop or I’ll fucking kill you, fuck, you’re laughing, what I—

oh. And with his breath in your lungs, all the world is shattered glass.

(I miss them, he says with his face tilted toward the ceiling, bottle dangling from his hand. Used to be easy. Wish I could remember what it’s like. I see them but there’s oceans between us.)

It’s a tight fit side-by-side in this narrow bed beneath its cross-and-crown quilt; shadows cut him deep to make his face seem old and unknowable. But the arm draped over your side is warm; his body is a bulwark against the powder-dry chill of the room and with your fingers knotted in his undershirt he isn’t going anywhere.

Wonder if it’s still there.

Hm?

Bought a dirty magazine off a friend once. I was too chickenshit to open it and even more scared to throw it away, so I stuck it under the mattress. Did he still jerk off furtively, ears pricked, thinking about what pictures might be inside? Or did he resolutely think of nothing, forcing his thoughts to wrap around the motion of his hand and nothing else?

The world outside is water, rain murmuring all around like the voices of strangers in another room. He watches you with heavy-lidded eyes, body reaching for sleep even as his mind is turning over and over, thoughts and worries and wordless memories filling up the blank spaces left by orgasm. Maybe you can’t fix his troubles, but you can at least keep him company. Keep me warm against the cold and I’ll stand beside you in the dark. Tomorrow you’ll drink coffee and watch rainwater drip from the trees; morning light will paint him gold and strike the shadows from his face.

(There is life even in the depths: flashes of blue light, signals across the vast and silent dark.)

[lunaticus-platina]

HOLY SHIT THE FUCK @12d3trvshcktt TAGGED A VERY IMPORTANT POINT

Had he tried to go for the gun again he'd have been shot twice. First time he tried to snatch the gun away he still believed Laura was bluffing. But when Laura deliberately shot him, now he knows she means to kill him if she needs to.

God I love this headcannon it means T's good at quick thinking. Oh he a cop alright. We might not know what he's thinking but if you are writing. Him constantly analyzing the situation and acting accordingly will be so fun to write. He does excel in certain situations. Then horribly fails in others. Ideas, ideas...

[draganwhorror]

Everybody's Somebody's Fool

Author Note: This short story idea came to me while I was listening to my iPod one day and the Connie Francis song came on. The story's a bit...dark, I guess, and there will be trigger warnings in the tags. Also, the ending of this fic was inspired by this gif:

His heart ached. The type of ache that could crush a man’s soul if he let it. And Travis Hackett was ready to die.

He had known it was too good to be true. Of course it had been too good to be true. No woman in their right mind would want someone like him. Travis wasn’t stupid. He had flaws. Lots of them. Travis hated his little pot belly. Of course, he also drank too much, which was the most likely cause of said pot belly, but he needed at least one vice in his life. Why not whiskey?

Travis hated his bald spot. His hair had been thinning for years now, but the bald spot on the back of his head was becoming more pronounced, and he wished there was some way to cover it up that didn’t require a hat.

His personality wasn’t much better than his looks, at least in his own eyes. He knew he could be a miserable grump sometimes. He had his moments. But deep down, Travis was soft. He’d never admit that to anyone, not even his younger brothers, but he was a bit of a hopeless romantic, and he just wanted to be loved. Loved for who he was. Flaws and all.

But it had never been meant to be. The love he’d thought he’d found was no more. And death would be preferable to the heartache he felt in this moment.

Travis sighed, sitting on his worn sofa in his quiet cabin in the woods. He had a bottle of whiskey on the table next to him, and his gun sat next to him as he contemplated ending it all. He doubted anyone would miss him. Maybe his brothers. But they would move on. Live their lives. Have their happily ever afters, whatever that might entail. But for Travis, there would be nothing. No happiness. No love. No joy. Just…darkness.

The memory of her surfaced in his mind. He closed his eyes, wishing he could forget her. Wishing he had never met her. She’d given him too much hope. And hope, for someone like Travis, was a dangerous thing. But he’d let her get under his skin. Let her in. And she had destroyed him. Torn his heart straight from his chest and stomped all over it.

Travis picked up the gun, holding the weight of it in his hand. He stared down at it, wondering what it would be like to be here one moment and gone the next. Would it hurt? Would there be a flash of light and then nothing? What if I failed, though? Travis imagined himself screwing up his own death, lying here alone, in pain—or more pain than he was already in—bleeding out, but not enough to actually kill him. What if I end up paralyzed? Or disfigured? Wouldn’t matter anyway…

Travis scowled, his thoughts running rampant through his mind. Between thinking of her and thinking about death, he felt like he was being torn in two. With a growl, he set the gun down and grabbed the bottle of whiskey, tipping it up so the liquid flowed down his throat, burning as it settled in his belly.

Images of her swam behind his eyes. Her long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. Her bright blue eyes that seemed to look straight through him into his soul. Her soft pink lips that had pressed a kiss to his cheek…

“No!” Travis grunted, slamming the bottle of whiskey back down on the table.

He didn’t want to remember. He didn’t want to care. He didn’t want to hurt anymore.

He pushed himself up off the couch and walked over to the window, gazing out at the trees that lined his property. A light rain was falling, and the gray sky matched his mood. Closing his eyes, Travis rested his head against the cool glass.

“Laura…”

He murmured her name softly, as though saying it any louder would summon her and bring about another fresh wave of heartache. Travis had dealt with his fair share of terrible people—criminals who had done bad things and hurt others—even in a small town like North Kill, but Laura…she had been an actual monster.

Well, okay, no…not an actual monster like a vampire or a werewolf, since those didn’t exist, but Travis viewed her in the same vein. Someone who was out to hurt. Destroy. Kill. And she had succeeded.

The memory of her surfaced again as he opened his eyes, staring out into the gloom. She had come to North Kill with her boyfriend at the time, a nice kid named Max. They had been counselors at his brother’s camp for the summer, but when camp ended, Laura had decided to stay in North Kill and work at the local vet’s office to get some experience before starting school. Max had balked at the idea of sticking around, but he’d gone along with it and had found a job working at the local paper as a junior photographer. That was how Travis had met him. And through Max, he’d met Laura. The first meeting had been the beginning of his downfall.

Travis had been smitten immediately. Sure, Laura was a lot younger than him, but he couldn’t help the way his heart had fluttered in his chest the moment he’d laid eyes on her. And even though he knew she was dating Max, Travis couldn’t help but want her.

He had fought against his feelings, buried them deep down where they couldn’t see the light of day. But despite his best efforts, his heart had betrayed him. Travis had found himself drawn to Laura like a moth to a flame, unable to resist her pull. He had tried to ignore her, to avoid her at all costs, but fate seemed determined to intertwine their lives.

Travis remembered the first time they had spoken alone, a chance encounter at the local diner. Laura’s smile had been so bright, so inviting, that he had found himself opening up to her without even realizing it. They had talked for hours, about everything and nothing at all, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. In that moment, Travis had allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for him to find happiness.

But then reality had come crashing down around him. Laura’s true colors had emerged slowly but surely, revealing a cruelty that had cut Travis to the bone.

He had been blind to her lies and deceit. She had played him like a fiddle, pulling the strings of his emotions. She had known just what to say, just how to touch him, to make him believe that there was something real between them. And Travis, poor Travis, had fallen for it all.

It wasn’t until he caught her with another man that he realized she had no qualms about hurting not only him but Max as well. It had been a blatant betrayal of trust that had shattered the fragile illusion he had built around her, when he realized the depth of her deception. Laura had used him, toyed with his feelings for her own amusement, discarding him like a used napkin once she grew bored.

Travis’s chest tightened at the memory of her mocking laughter, the way she had smirked as she twisted the knife in his back. He had never felt so foolish, so utterly defeated as he did in that moment of realization.

Travis felt like a fool for falling for her tricks, for believing that someone like her could ever care for someone like him.

As he stood at the window, staring out into the rainy afternoon, Travis clenched his fists in frustration. He couldn't believe he had let himself be so vulnerable, so easily swayed by a woman who cared for no one but herself.

But as the memories of her betrayal swirled in his mind, a sudden determination sparked within Travis. He couldn't let Laura's deceit and heartlessness be the end of him. No, he refused to let her have that power over him any longer.

With a resolute expression hardening his features, Travis turned away from the window and walked purposefully back to the table where the gun lay. He picked it up once more, but this time, it was not to end his own life. Instead, a steely resolve gleamed in his eyes as he checked the chamber to make sure it was loaded.

"I may have been a fool once, Laura," Travis muttered under his breath, his voice firm with newfound determination. "But I won't give you the satisfaction of destroying me completely."

He tucked the gun securely into the waistband of his jeans and grabbed his jacket, heading out into the rain.

It was time for Travis to make things right. To put an end to the pain and heartache she had caused him. He knew deep down that killing Laura wouldn't bring back the pieces of his life she had shattered, but it would at least give him a measure of closure.

As he stepped out into the downpour, Travis felt a primal sense of clarity wash over him. This was his chance to avenge the betrayal she had inflicted upon him, and on Max, and he wouldn't let it slip away.

The journey to Laura's house was a cold and wet one, but Travis barely noticed the rain as he focused on the mission at hand. He knew her daily routine like the back of his hand, and today would be no different. She'd be home from work, sitting in her living room, relaxed and perhaps even feeling a little smug.

As he approached her house, Travis's heart pounded in his chest, each beat sounding like a drum in his ears. The rain soaked through his clothes, plastering his hair to his forehead as he stood on Laura's doorstep, staring at the familiar wooden door that had once seemed so inviting. But now, it was a barrier between him and the closure he sought.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Travis raised a hand and knocked firmly on the door. The sound didn’t seem to elicit any movement inside, and for a moment, he wondered if she had gone out for the evening. But just as he turned to leave, the door creaked open slowly, revealing Laura standing on the other side.

Her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Travis standing there, soaked by the rain, a conflicted expression on his face. Before she could utter a word, he reached for the waistband of his pants and pulled out the gun, pointing it directly at her chest.

Laura's expression shifted from shock to fear in an instant as she stumbled backward, her back hitting the wall behind her. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, her eyes darted around wildly, searching for a way to escape Travis's wrath.

"You..." Travis began, his voice shaking with a mix of anger and sadness. "You hurt me. You broke my heart. But more importantly, you hurt Max. You destroyed that young man until he felt like there was no other option. Do you even care that he’s gone, Laura? Do you?!”

Laura's eyes filled with terror as she realized the gravity of the situation. She tried to plead for her life, but her voice caught in her throat, and she could only manage a faint whimper.

Travis took a deep breath, the gun shaking in his hand as he willed himself to pull the trigger. This was it. This was the end of Laura's reign of destruction. This was the closure he so desperately craved.

But as he focused on the sight of the gun, a new thought crossed his mind. A thought that made him hesitate. What would happen if he pulled the trigger? Would it really fix everything? Would it bring back Max or fill the emptiness inside him?

As the rain continued to drench him, Travis's resolve began to waver. He stared at Laura, her eyes filled with fear and desperation, and felt a pang of sympathy. Maybe she wasn't as heartless as she seemed. Maybe she was just as lost and confused as he was.

With a deep sigh, Travis lowered the gun, his resolve shaken by the unexpected wave of empathy. He couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger, not when he now understood that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for redemption, for healing.

Laura let out a shaky breath, her body slumping against the wall as the gun fell to the ground between them. For a long moment, both Travis and Laura stared at one another, each trying to process the turn of events.

Then, without warning, Travis's emotions overcame him. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he let out a pained sob. He had been so close to ending it all, to easing the pain that Laura had caused, but in the end, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Laura, for her part, looked at Travis with a mix of relief, guilt, and confusion. She had expected him to pull the trigger, to end her life.

"I'm sorry, Travis," Laura said softly, her voice barely audible over the sound of the rain. But Travis could hear the slight edge of amusement creeping into her tone, giving her away. "I... I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't mean to hurt Max. I thought... I thought I…

Before she could finish her thought, Travis picked up the gun again.

Not wanting to give her the chance to continue excusing her actions, he aimed it at her once more. She flinched back, her eyes wide with fear as she realized that he was serious this time.

"I can't let you keep hurting people, Laura," Travis said, his voice steady and firm. "You have caused so much pain, and I won't let you do it again. Not to me. Not to Max. Not to anyone else."

Laura's face twisted in anguish, her eyes welling up with tears. She looked at Travis, pleading for him to understand how sorry she was, how much she regretted her actions. But it was too late for that.

Travis squeezed the trigger, and the sound of the gunshot echoed through the room. Laura's body crumpled to the floor, her life suddenly and violently cut short.

Travis's heart ached. He stared at Laura’s lifeless form with wide eyes, realizing the gravity of what he had done. He released a primal scream into the air, all of the pain and suffering he’d been keeping bottled up leaching out of him.

Glancing down at his hand, he saw he still held the gun. His eyes darted to Laura once more before he lifted the gun and shakily brought it up under his chin.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, bracing himself for the inevitable end.

In the silence that followed, the only sound was the patter of rain against the ground. Travis's heart pounded in his chest, every beat echoing in his ears. For a moment, he felt like he was floating, suspended between life and death.

A single tear fell from beneath his lashes, mingling with the rain that pelted his face as he knelt there on the doorstep. With one last breath, Travis pulled the trigger, letting the darkness consume him.

[tatjana-fantasy]

(Part 5)

Let’s continue my replay of The Quarry :) Some thoughts (Chapter 8 + Chapter 9):

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 6

I can totally understand why Ryan wouldn’t want to kill Chris, who is essentially his father figure. At the same time, I do understand why Laura doesn’t see another option. I still think it’s a little extreme for her to immediately want to kill Chris, but I sadly get where she is coming from ;__;

I actually like Ryan’s and Laura’s dynamic quite a lot! More in a sibling than in a romantic way, though. :)

Okay, let’s talk about the infamous “Maybe neither.” Personally, I always thought that in the context of Laura’s question, it simply meant that Ryan likes neither more (and at least the German version translates it as “I like both”), but even if we assume that he likes neither of them … he doesn’t owe Dylan anything. Just like Emma is completely allowed to say No to Jacob without being harassed over it, Ryan is completely allowed to say No to Dylan without being harassed over it. And I say that as someone who ships them.

Speaking off Dylan, I LOVE the scene where Emma “maces” him XD

STOP LAURA STOP LAURA STOP LAURA (I lost Nick on my first playthrough because I wanted to show my trust in her T__T)

Yay, I freed Jacob :D The puzzle is still soooo confusing though. I’m kinda glad I avoided it on my first playthrough because I can’t imagine I would’ve ever pulled it off!

WTF is up with the music after Laura gets captured?? And how have I never noticed how unintentionally funny it is??

I’m surprised the dialogue between Abigail and Emma in the beginning stays the same even if she’s infected :O

I heard that Constance’s death apparently got censored in some versions of the game, so I’m happy mine isn’t among them :) She and Travis were the only Hacketts that died on my first playthrough …

Not gonna lie, Jed’s death by Laura’s hand is surprisingly brutal!

Bobby is so hilarious, I love him <3 <3 <3

I LOVE the moral dilemma of accepting Laura’s bite. On my first playthrough, I accepted Laura’s bite because I hoped that there would be another way to save Chris, but at the same time, I feared that I made the wrong choice. I really didn't want to kill him :-(

You all already know this, but: HOLY SHIT THE SCRAPYARD SCENE IS SO GOOD. The werewolf, the lights, the music! And afterwards, when Dylan begs Kaitlyn to leave him! While it sucks that he won’t be in the lodge later, this scene almost makes it worth it <3 Oh, and I got the trophy for infecting everyone, so now I just need to save them ;-)

And then, the scene with Abi and Emma. Emma’s words to Abi hurt so much T__T Her “Abi …” at the end sounded like an apology :-(

(Btw, I luckily knew what I had to do and escaped via the ladder, but I think it really sucks that going to the stairs is an automatic death sentence.)

On my first playthrough, I refused to shoot Chris during the Hackett showdown, and Ryan, Laura and Travis died. I was freaking devastated. Ryan’s death in particular left me so heartbroken that I had to stop playing for that day, only to have literal nightmares about how Dylan would react to his death. It certainly left a lasting impression on me … only to pull the rug under my feet when I saw what the actual ending of the game was :-/

I love the Hierophant flashback, but damn, I really wish the game would allow you to pick another card afterwards :-/ I think it’s pretty unfair that simply finding this card already makes it impossible to see another card’s vision …

But anyway, I still enjoyed these chapters despite some problems I have with them. :) See you next time, when I finish my replay of The Quarry!